


The God Damn Doctor's Office

by Fandoms_Everywhere_United



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Lance (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mafia AU, Mpreg, Omega Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 18:50:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_Everywhere_United/pseuds/Fandoms_Everywhere_United
Summary: Lance is the head of a Mafia organization. Shiro calls him one day worriedly, and they take an impromptu ride to the hospital.





	The God Damn Doctor's Office

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovelysky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelysky/gifts).



> Skyyyyyyyyy!!!! I finished yours!!! Your gift to me was so awesome, and I wanted to make sure that yours was equally so. There’s a little angst? But with a happy ending?
> 
> Anyway, this is my first Shance fic…….. And my first A/B/O fic? So if it’s really crappy, I’m so so so so so sorry. I tried to ask around to see if this stuff was accurate

The phone rang shrilly throughout the silent office. It was the first call in hours, and it caused a large portion of the room’s inhabitants to raise their hypothetical hackles. Mostly because it was Lance’s phone that had rung.

There was a grand total of three people who knew the direct number for that phone. The first was the hacking prodigy, Pidge, who only earned their rights after hacking into random bank accounts and siphoning money. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) for them, one of the accounts had been Lance’s private one.

After they had righted themselves in his eyes, they were offered a job to work at the agency. Then, they had promptly ‘discovered’ the number for Lance’s direct line and rather than get an entirely new number which was only going to be deciphered again, they got to grow the list to three.

Next was Lance’s best friend Hunk who no one knew why he had been given the number. Hunk wasn’t aware of Lance’s… extracurricular… activities, and he almost never called. For all Hunk knew, he was a Vice President of some pharmaceuticals company.

That wasn’t entirely untrue; it just wasn’t entirely true. They operated under the front of Lainta Medicine, which was a quasi-legal company that accounted for about 5 percent of the total profits. So not entirely untrue, but Hunk had no idea that Lance was really the head of a multi-million dollar organized crime group.

That only left one other person.

“Hey, babe.”

Takashi Shirogane.

Lance’s fiance. He almost never called the direct line either, preferring to text or speak with Lance on his private cell. Either he didn’t want to wait for Lance to look at his phone, or something was wrong.

“Yeah, I’m at the office right now.” He spun the cord around his index finger playfully. “Nah, today’s been really slow, do you need me to come home?” He paused for a second, listening to the other end. “Alright. I’ll be right there. I love you.”

He set the phone on the reciever with a click. As soon as he had hung up, his jacket was swung over his shoulders, and he was headed out the door; his scent flaring up protectively and permeating through the entire room.

The door to his office slammed behind him and he was out into the snowy world without a backward glance. He moved quickly through the white flurry and into his car where he cranked the heat up as high as it would go, rubbing his hands to warm them up. He replayed Shiro’s worried voice in his head again until it was somewhat on repeat.

_”I haven’t been feeling all that well lately. I Googled a couple of my symptoms even though I know I’m not supposed to and that they give you awful, inaccurate answers, but the top result was cancer.”_

Lance felt an involuntary shiver tear through him again after just remembering the conversation. Shiro was going to be fine. There was no other option really. Shiro just needed to be fine and everything else would be okay.

It was probably nothing anyway; Google was notorious for bad medical advice. Shiro was probably just coming down with a cold. Yeah. a cold. There was no reason that Shiro should even suspect cancer other than the fact that it ran in his family, especially in omegas.

Okay, maybe there was a reason to worry, but that kind of thing only happened to people in sad movies. It never happened to the people you know. It never happened to your family.

That didn’t matter.

Lance was the head of the largest mafia family in this damned city. There was nothing that money couldn’t buy for him or for Shiro. It would buy the best damn oncologist in the world if it had to.

Lance shook his head as he pulled into the driveway of their mini-mansion; they hadn’t even gone to the doctor yet. This was just the result of a (probably) incorrectly diagnosed illness from Web MD or something else from questionable medical knowledge.

Lance flung the door of their house open, letting the cold air in. Shiro’s familiar scent, filled with concern, almost knocked him off his feet. “Shiro? Babe?” He called, worry lodged tight in his throat causing his voice to wobble. “Are you here? We can go right to the hospital if you’re worried about anything.”

Shiro rounded the corner. Tears had made their way down his cheeks, something that Lance hadn’t seen in a very long time. One of his arms was wrapped around his waist while the prosthetic clung to his elbow. As always, the sight of the plastic appendage always brought a little bit of guilt to the forefront of his mind.

Shiro had been kidnapped to try and gain an upper hand against Lance. They had gotten a call that he was being held in a warehouse and immediately were on the move to rescue him. They were too late to save his arm though; it had been removed as soon as Lance had been spotted.

He pushed the memory to the back of his mind, summoning what he hoped was a comforting scent. Shiro relaxed minisculely, his body still wound as tight as a spring.

“Shiro?” Lance tried again, forcing his voice to be evener. “I’m sure that you’re fine and probably just coming down with a cold or something like that.”

“Yeah…” He trailed off and shook his head to clear it. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just a little worried.” Lance wrapped his arms around Shiro’s body.

“Hey.” He brushed the lock of white hair off to the side to expose his forehead. “I’m sure that you’re fine.” He pressed his lips to Shiro’s hairline. “Let’s get a jacket on you and get you into the car.” Lance shucked off his own blazer and draped it across the other’s shoulders.

Shiro glanced sideways at him. “What about you?”

Lance pulled at the cuffs on his blue button up. “Long sleeves a day keep the cold away.”

“That doesn’t make sense and you know it,” Shiro said, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

Lance’s heart floated just a bit more. Shiro’s scent was starting to revert back from rampant anxiety to only mild concern, so he ushered his fiance into the car.

They drove in near silence until the hospital appeared around the corner, shining proudly in the afternoon’s sun. Lance reached across to Shiro’s lap where he tangled their fingers together.

“You’ll be fine.” He broke the silence and squeezed the hand in his own. “I’m sure that there’s nothing to worry about.”

Shiro scoffed, his scent betraying his nervousness. “You’ve said that almost five times now. Who are you trying to convince?”

Lance pressed his lips to the back of Shiro’s hand and didn’t answer, instead, pulling into the closest parking space to the entrance. “Let’s go.”

They cuddled up next to each other for warmth to make the short trek from the car to the sliding glass doors. The inside of the hospital was warm, and they went directly to the reception desk.

The receptionist finished her phone call quickly and smiled pleasantly at the two of them. “Hi! Do you have an appointment?” Her voice was forcibly cheery to the point that both of them could tell how fake it was. Probably a beta or omega.

Lance cleared his throat before talking. “No appointment.”

The corners of her mouth twitched slightly, her fake smile almost falling from her face. “That shouldn’t be a problem. What are you in for?”

“We’d like a consult with an oncologist as soon as possible.”

This time her smile did falter; the one she put on in its place was much shakier. “I’m sorry. Are you making an appointment?”

Lance shook his head and pulled Shiro closer to his side, partially for the comfort, partially for the warmth. “No, we want to see an oncologist.” Her face turned sour, all pretense of customer service gone. “We want to see one _today_.” He clarified.

“Unfortunately, all appointments for our oncology department are booked for the next two weeks.” She typed at her keyboard, the acrylic nails clicking irritatingly against the plastic. “I could make an appointment for you on Tuesday the seventeenth at eleven in the morning. Does that work for you?”

Lance shook his head again. “Today.”

“I’m sorry, all appointments are-”

“Hey, babe.” Lance addressed Shiro. “Why don’t you find us two seats in the waiting room?” The undulations of his voice had changed subtly, and the scent he was giving off had turned into more of a warning.

Shiro nodded and sat down far enough away that he couldn’t hear the hushed conversation between the two. After no longer than a minute, the receptionist was ushering the two of them into another room and telling them that the doctor would be with them in fifteen minutes.

Five minutes later, the door opened and they were moved into a private room with the blinds pulled shut so that no outside light was getting in. The only source of illumination was the warm amber light from a desk lamp. The room was warm, but that didn’t stop them from shivering when they entered and saw the back wall lined with a couple hundred medical textbooks.

A woman in her late 40s was sitting at the desk. Her frizzy auburn hair was tied up in a bun with a few strands poking out here and there. She wore green-rimmed glasses that must have been an inch thick. The red lipstick that she was wearing had smudged on the ugly white coffee mug with brown rings around the inside.

“Which one of you is Takashi Shirogane?” Her voice was thin and reedy, and the sound grated on both of their ears. The oncologist asked as she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

Shiro raised his hand timidly. “That’s me.”

She nodded. “Alright, I need to ask that your companion leave the room for this consultation.”

“What? Why?” Both men asked at once.

Her eyes stared daggers at each of their left hands and then their necks. “Seeing as you are neither married nor mates, doctor-patient confidentiality does pertain to your case. You could waive that if you would like.” 

Shiro felt a spike of guilt as he brought his other hand to touch the unmarred scent gland. He cast his eyes down; it wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to be Lance’s mate. He really wanted it actually, with all his heart. He was just a little scared to put a flashing sign on him saying ‘Property of Lance McClain, Head of the Mafia, (Great Kidnapping Candidate)’.

He had already been through that hell once; he flinched as he felt a spike of nerve pain where his prosthetic met flesh. He couldn’t go through that again.

She looked over the rim of her glasses at Shiro again. “Would you like to?”

Choosing not to stall on darker thoughts, he took the slightly indignant route, his scent flaring with irritation. “Yeah. Why didn’t you start with that question rather than tell my fiance to leave the room?”

“I strive to make my patients as comfortable as possible.” She said dryly. “Now why are you here today?”

Shiro’s hand sought out Lance’s; the soft skin was a comfort to him under his own callouses. They explained the situation rather embarrassedly, about how Shiro had Googled his symptoms and seeing cancer at the top of the list had freaked him out.

The doctor seemed frustrated with the two of them, but tried her best not to show it. In hindsight, maybe they should have just asked to run a few blood tests, but they were here now, so they might as well continue. She took some blood to run a few tests, and she scheduled an MRI that could be canceled if she thought it wasn’t necessary.

“Alright. I’ll call you when we get the results back.”

“And that will be?” Lance prompted.

She sighed. “It could be today, it could be three days from now, with how busy the lab is right now, I’m guessing it’s going to take two days or so. This is the number that we can reach you at?” She pointed to the number listed, which was the landline to their house.

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “You can reach me there.” he looked over it once more before nodding.

“Then I have done all I can do for you.” She held the door for them in a not so subtle way of showing them out. “I will call you as soon as I get the results from the lab.”

The two walked back out to their car hand in hand. Shiro was thankful for the wind that was carrying his concerned scent away from Lance, who smelled like a burning fuse. He was ready to fight anything that came in his way, anything that he could _see_. As long as he could kill it and protect Shiro from it.

Because whatever this was, he couldn’t fight it.

The car ride back was just as tense as the ride up there. The only visible difference was the bright white bandage wrapped around Shiro’s elbow where they had taken the blood from.

Lance tried to start a conversation, but it fell flat almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Their house was uncomfortably silent. The open-air stole the sound from them so that every move they made was muffled like they were walking on cotton balls. Lance helped his fiance out of the blazer he had loaned him earlier and hung it on the coat rack by the door.

“Hey.” He said quietly. The sound was almost swallowed up by the house again. “Everything is going to be fine. Trust me.”

Shiro nodded, but wouldn’t look at Lance, his eyes looking at the floor.

“How about this?” Lance used Shiro’s chin to angle their faces together. “I’ll send everyone home for the rest of today. I’ll cook us some dinner with my amazing cooking skills. Then we can just have the night to ourselves, and we don’t have to worry about anything. How does that sound?”

Shiro nodded, tears starting to well in his eyes. “Yeah. That… That sounds nice.”

Lance brushed both of his thumbs under the other man’s eyes and kept the tears from falling. He raised himself to his toes and placed a gentle kiss on both cheeks, flooding the two of them with his comforting scent.

He sent everyone home after that. They had all 6,550 square feet to themselves. He set their playlist to play throughout the house so that it could be heard anywhere. They worked together in the kitchen to make the recipe that Lance had shamelessly asked Hunk for. It wasn’t as good as it would have been if Hunk _had_ made it, but they put their own little spin on the dish, like too much sugar and not enough dill.

They were cuddled up on the couch surrounded by about ten different blankets and thirty pillows when the phone rang. Whatever anxiety they had managed to eliminate instantly solidified in their chests.

It rang twice before Lance even started to move; the first time he tried to answer, no sound came out.

“McClain residence, Lance speaking.” He said shakily. His chest was starting to tighten, and dread settled deep in his gut.

“Hello. Is Takashi Shirogane available?”

Lance pulled Shiro closer to him and blankly handed the phone over to him.

“This is Shiro.” He stated as he turned it to speaker.

“I met with you earlier about the possibility of you having cancer.”

Shiro’s throat tightened. “Yeah.”

“Well, to put you at ease, I just got the preliminary results back. You don’t need an oncologist.”

Both men relaxed into each other and smiled, breathing a unanimous sigh of relief.

“That’s great news.” Lance said, kissing Shiro’s cheek.

“You do need a doctor though.” She said. “Although, I do think that you’ll like this news.”

Their hands had tightened together as they listened.

“You’re going to need a gynecologist.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
